Bleed For Me
by AbbyO
Summary: Vaughn and Sydney struggle to deal with the events of "The Telling." S/V
1. Default Chapter

**Title: **Bleed For Me

**Author:** Abby O. (abbyo3@hotmail.com)

**Rating:** PG-13 

**Category: **S/V Angst

**Spoilers:** "The Telling"

**Summary:** Sydney and Vaughn struggle to deal with the events after "The Telling." 

**Disclaimer:** These characters are ALL JJ's, not mine.

**A/N:** Oh noooo, not another post-Telling 'fic! LOL, I hope you all enjoy this one. I don't write many fanfics but my fingers seemed to just take me along for the ride on this one. Please let me know what you think! This will probably be a four or five parter. Much love to my beta, Kris. You rock, chica!

* * * * * * * *__

_And all I ever wanted_

_Was to feel I had a purpose_

_But now that's all gone..._

_But if you could give me_

_Just one love_

_Just one life_

_Just one chance to believe in mine_

                                    -- "Bleed For Me," by Saliva

* * * * * * * *

**PART 1**

Life has thrown me one hell of a curve ball. In fact, I think the ball must've ended up in the other team's bullpen.  I'm sitting outside of Sydney's private room at the CIA's medical services, head buried in my hands and with what seems to be a mallet pounding endlessly on the back of my brain. It's been a couple of hours since we arrived in Los Angeles where she was whisked away by the doctors with their typical serious expression masking their holy-shit-she's-alive reaction and the other CIA agents who are in equal awe. Now, at 4:17 in the morning, I'm waiting motionless on the metal chairs in the hallway for nothing in particular. The doctors have already briefed me on her condition and told me that they had to run more tests. 

"So far, she seems to be physically alright aside from losing a few pounds and being slightly dehydrated. However, emotionally...I would say she's been through hell and back again," the doctor told him. 

_Obviously _she's been through an emotional wringer. I don't need a PhD to figure out that if a woman has two years of her life stolen and is left to have no recollection of it at all, and not to mention the fact that she's come home to a completely different world where her best friend is dead and her once-upon-a-time boyfriend is married, she tends to develop a little emotional instability. 

They said that I'm free to see her if I so desire, so what the hell am I still doing out here? The wood-trimmed door is still staring at me, just as it had been for the past two hours. Maybe it's best if I don't see her. I'm not exactly her favorite person at the moment and if I knew her at all, she would probably give me that vicious stare that could burn a hole through my already very damaged soul. She definitely gave another meaning to "If looks could kill."  I need to explain everything to her but I know I won't find the right words and nothing I say anyway will make her feel better.

'All your things are in storage because we didn't know what to do with your house.' Nope, that definitely wouldn't bring a smile to her face.

'Will moved to New York after you disappeared..." That won't do it either.

'Your father's developed a drinking habit..." Best to leave that out unless she asks…

'I got married two weeks ago.' Oh yeah. _That's a winner._

I can feel the wedding band on my ring finger more than I've ever felt it before. However, this time around, that feeling of it squeezing the life out of my finger until it just decided to pop the whole thing right off seems to be a bit stronger than previous occasions. Last time I checked, it's not supposed to feel that way. You know your marriage is in trouble when...

I take a deep breath and will myself to stand up. That's honestly the most I've accomplished since I started sitting out here. I can't just leave her here without saying anything, even if I'm the last person she wants to see. And regardless of how scared I am of what she's going to say or do, I'm...even more scared of how I'm still so hopelessly in love with her.

I push the door open after knocking twice. "Syd? It's me..."

When I'm offered no response, my legs take me inside and what I see is only half what I expected to see. And devastatingly more heartbreaking. The room is dimly lit with one bedside lamp and the silence is deafening. Sydney sits unmoving on the bed, her knees to her chest and her arms wrapped tightly around them. The tears have seemingly stopped for the moment but her cheeks are angrily stained with the ones that fell before. I can feel my heart dropping to the floor for I had never in my life seen her so empty and broken.

I look away, selfishly thinking that I didn't want to see her like this anymore. "Can I come in?"

After a few noiseless moments, she answers, "You're already inside."

Smart Vaughn. "Yeah...um...I just wanted to see if you were okay." I take a few tentative steps towards her bed, putting my clammy hands in my coat pockets.

"I'm fine," she replied, her voice lifeless and cold as ice. 

At that instant, all I wanted to do was apologize for everything that had happened until my voice was hoarse. I wanted to get on my knees and beg her to forgive me because I knew that she thought I had given up on her. I wanted to forget that I had a beautiful wife sitting worriedly at home because I knew that her beauty only paled in comparison to the woman sitting in front of me. And most of all, I wanted to tell her what I never got to tell her two years ago – that I love her more than anything else in the world.

"The doctors said you should get some rest before your next round of tests...I know this is really difficult, with your father still overseas...and Will not being here, but Will said he's gonna try to catch a flight in as soon as he can get away from work…" I'm rambling. Stop rambling.

For the first time since I walked in here, her cold, lifeless eyes finally meet mine and a thousand memories come flooding back to me. "Really. I'm fine. You should go home."

I shift my gaze to the floor, unable to take her empty gaze any longer. Go home? How am I supposed to just go home when the woman I've been in love with for years has just walked back into my life? The rational side of me kicked in, rather forcefully, and I knew that she needed time to process everything and to rest. Things had to be left unsaid for now because I'm certainly just as confused and perplexed about the current state of things. I have that aching feeling in which I am so impossibly clueless with what to do next. That feeling wasn't going to change for a while. "Okay," I finally comply. "I'll be by tomorrow," I nervously look at my watch, "or I guess later to check up on you.' I turn to leave.

"You shouldn't bother," she said under her breath.

My eyes fall on her weary figure alone on the bed. "Sydney – "

"Just go."

I let out a sigh and wish to whoever out there was listening that this situation could only get better. "Bye, Syd," I say quietly and close the door behind me.

* * * * * * * *

"He shoots, he scores!" Weiss shouts as he makes a shot from the three-point line. I let him make that. "C'mon, Mike, where's the D at?" he says, hands on his hips.

I shake my head, wiping the sweat from my eyes. Truth be told, my mind is the farthest thing from basketball at the moment. It's been a few weeks since Sydney's homecoming and nothing, absolutely _nothing has been resolved between us. It's driving me insane and I can't do a damn thing about it because at the moment, she wants nothing to do with me. _

"You're gonna have to stop letting me win eventually, you know."

"Enjoy it while you can," I quip, still distracted by my jumbled thoughts. "How's she doing, Weiss?"

"Honestly? She's doing okay...she just has a lot to get used to. It's not everyday you find your boyfriend shacked up with another woman. And married, no less."

"No kidding."

"Jack's barely been letting her out of his sight and it's making her a little insane, but she knows he means well. You know, typical father over-protectiveness."

"Yeah...well, that's good to hear."

Weiss walks over to me and lays a hand on my shoulder. "I know you're worried about her, but you can't just stand here and continue to do nothing, Vaughn. She's planning on going back to work in a week – which means you two will have to face each other one time or another."

"She's coming back to work?! It's too soon!"

"Okay, Mr.Balls of Steel, YOU tell Sydney Bristow it's too soon," he chuckled.

Dammit. He's right. She can probably drop-kick my ass into Malaysia and then into the Arctic for good measure. "That's the last thing I would tell her if I ever get the chance to even speak to her..."

"When was the last time you tried?" 

"A few weeks ago...I got nothing but one word answers so I figured that it wasn't the best time to offer my pathetic attempts at an explanation," I sigh, my eyes focused on the basketball's movement.

Weiss took the basketball and continued dribbling. "Hey, Vaughn?"

"What?"

"What exactly do you plan to do about all this?"

"What do you mean?"

"You have a wife." Dribble.

"Thanks for the reminder."

"Are the smartass comments really necessary here? You know what I mean." Dribble, lay-up.

"I don't know," I admit.

"Have you told Kate about her?" Shoots.

I shake my head, "No, but she knows that something's going on."

"You know you owe her an explanation, too." Scores.

"I owe her so much more than that...I just don't know if I can give it."

* * * * * * *

_"And I wonder, wonder which one of us_

_Is gonna state the obvious_

_And I wonder if you already know_

_That I gotta let you go_

_I know this ain't the way I planned it_

_I guess I ain't the great romantic_

_And I'm not doubling back now"_

                                    --"No Doubling Back," by Jason Mraz

Kate Fischer is a classy woman. She's an investment banker who experienced a picture-perfect childhood in Hagerstown, Maryland. After attending NYU, she moved to Los Angeles and she's been living here and loving every minute of it ever since. I met her at some posh bar that Weiss had insisted we go to if for nothing else, to unwind and relax after a hard day's work. A hard day's work filled with more empty leads and broken clues involving Sydney's whereabouts. I wasn't ready to give up on her or admit that she was dead; I didn't think I could ever be ready for that. However, Weiss was right...I couldn't spend my nights alone in that depressing excuse of an apartment or I would've probably slipped even further, if that was possible, into depression. So I sat at the bar, not in the mood to amuse myself by watching Weiss's crash-and-burn efforts on picking up women. A half hour or so later, a confident yet ostensibly soft-spoken woman approached me and said, "Wow. You look like crap." At least she was honest.

When I started dating Kate, I discovered that she was nothing like Sydney in most ways. She couldn't speak a billion different languages. She didn't have adorable dimples when she smiled. She didn't stay awake and watch hockey with me nor did she have an unexplainable love for zambonies. She didn't tuck her hair behind her ears. Her touch never gave me goosebumps.

Her eyes didn't sparkle the way Sydney's sparkled.

Comparing Kate Jenkins to Sydney Bristow is unfair but it's the hardest habit to break. I keep wondering if there is any way at all to resolve this current "triangle," if you will, without hurting anyone in the end. Cue the little voice inside me that says, "Do pigs fly?"

My grip on the steering wheel becomes tighter as I pull up to my place. I've barely been home lately, afraid of facing Kate even though she's completely clueless as to what was going on. I didn't want to be one of those TV husbands that came home late every night and never got to see their wives which led to the eventual infidelity question. But I _was becoming one of those husbands and every inch of me was screaming to just stop and fix it, do something!_

I've been over it in my head a thousand times and the sensitivity and complexity of Sydney's return seemed to magnify each time it crossed my mind. When it came right down to it, I knew that the question was simple. 

Sydney or Kate?

Do I ruin a potentially great marriage with a wonderful woman who vowed to give me everything I needed? Or do I stay with my wife and attempt to bury these feelings I have for the woman who could give me not only everything I needed, but everything I wanted?

"Hi, sweetie," Kate greeted as she stood from the couch. 

How the hell did I get to the door? I don't exactly remember getting out of the car... "Hi," I say, forcing a smile as she kisses me softly on the lips. That guilty feeling I felt the first time I kissed this woman is back...

"You okay? You look a little beat."

I kick my shoes off and settle on the couch, rubbing my forehead. "It's been a long day. Work's really been intense." If all that "work" involved was Sydney, then I wouldn't be _completely _lying.

"That seems to be the trend these days," she sighs, plopping down next to me. 

God, I know that sigh. She wants me to talk to her about it. Why do women always want men to "talk about it"? Can't we just, for once, sit like a vegetable on the couch, watch television in peace, and not be questioned about "it," whatever "it" may be? I freeze and remember Weiss's words of wisdom...she needs to know. I wonder if I'm going to take up permanent residence on the couch after this.

Her blue eyes bore into mine, asking questions that I probably won't have half the answers to. "You've been far away from me lately, Michael."

Here goes nothing...

"You've barely been home and when you are, your mind is elsewhere. I want to believe you when you say that it's just work, but my gut is telling me that it's not the whole story," she said sadly.

"I'm sorry, Kate," I manage to say, holding her hand in my own. "You're right...that isn't the whole story and I think it's time for me to shed some light on things."

She lightly brushes the pad of her thumb across my hand, making her wedding band painfully visible and it's all I can do not to flinch. "Whatever it is, we'll get through it," she says.

Oh, I don't know about this one, Kate. I take a deep breath and begin. "Do you remember I told you before that I lost someone?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "You said that a close friend of yours was abducted a long time ago."

"That close friend was my girlfriend at the time and she disappeared two years ago."

Her eyes fell to the floor. "Oh...I'm so sorry, Michael..."

"She was the love of my life," I say quietly, knowing the kind of impact that these words have. "We went through so much together and for the longest time, we knew that nothing could happen between us. But when the time came, it just felt...right. Like everything in the world had magically fallen into place."

Her eyes had become glued to the carpet in front of them as she slowly pulled her hand away from my grasp. "That sounds like...something I thought we had."

I stare at the same spot on the floor and minutes pass as the silence envelopes us. "She's come back."

Her gaze whips around and lands on me. "That's wonderful news," she says, doing a horrible job masking her sadness. The cause of her sadness wasn't the fact that Sydney was back, but because she knew that this could very well be the end of our marriage.

"Yeah..." I reply softly. "I know this is hard, and I'm so sorry that I'm putting you through this but I'm just as inexperienced about how to deal with all this as you are—"

"Michael."

I look at her and I see the overwhelming gloom on her countenance as tears well up in her eyes. It pains me to see that I'm the cause of it and I wonder if I've done something in some past life that I'm being punished for. 

"Do you still love her?" she asks simply.

Do I what? 

"Are you still in love with her?" she asks again after receiving no answer.

"Kate..."

"Answer the question!" The tears had begun flowing freely down her cheek and she swats at them angrily. She hated it when people saw her cry.

How can I say this when I know my answer will break her heart and end my marriage? I haven't spoken to Sydney in a month and how am I to know that she'll even want me again?

Then it hits me. 

Sydney Bristow is worth all this and more. She's worth the risk of losing everything and the possibility of gaining nothing from it. It's time to stop living life with a safety net and be completely honest with myself. I wouldn't be happy being married to Kate. I wouldn't be happy with anyone unless it was Sydney and that was the honest-to-God truth. Who the hell was I kidding? I've been in love with this woman since the day she walked into my office and it didn't end when she was taken and forced to walk out of my life. 

"Yes."

* * * * * * * * *

End Part 1.


	2. Bleed For Me Part 2

**Bleed For Me – Part 2**  
(Story notes located in Part 1)

* * * * * * *

"Sydney, you don't have to go back so soon."

Is that, what, the fourth time he's said that in the past twenty-four hours? I love my dad. I really do. Without him, it would've been impossible to get through the first few weeks after my return. Nothing like coming back from the dead to strengthen your bond with your father. Nevertheless, his constant anxiety and hovering routine is getting a little old. I continue to put my hair up in a bun, determined to look sharp for my first day. "I can't sit around here all day, Dad...I need to get back up on my feet and having a job would definitely help."

Jack Bristow looks to the floor, knowing that arguing with me is a loss cause. "I know that this has all been really difficult for you, but I want you to know that however long it takes you to put your life back together, you'll always have a place to stay here," he says softly, looking at me by way of the bathroom mirror.

I smile and turn around to face him. I may have the most unconventional relationship with my father, but that only goes to show that he's the best in the business. "Thanks, dad." I get up on my tip toes and kiss his cheek before making my way to the living room with him following behind me.

"Sydney?"

"Yeah?"

He hesitates for a minute and I have a sinking feeling on what this is going to be about.  "Have you...spoken with Vaughn?"

Vaughn. God, it hurts to even _think about his name. That particular name has been pretty much unmentionable in my presence since I came back from my two year vacation. Also, the topic is certainly not one that I'd like to broach upon at the moment. "Uh, no, I haven't."_

"If you don't mind me asking, what exactly is going on with you two?"

I mind.

I force an unconvincing smile on my face, knowing that he's too damn perceptive to fall for that. "Absolutely nothing. He's married; it's over, end of story. Now, I'm late for work as it is and you need to start packing for your next mission." Does my voice always go up when I'm trying to change the subject?

"Bye, sweetie," my dad says, giving me a little wave and looking a little disappointed that I brushed off the Vaughn issue rather quickly. "Good luck."

I feel like it's the first day of school.

* * * * * * *

I'm not angry. Betrayed? Yes. Hurt to the point of feeling physical pain at every thought of him which tends to occur every ten seconds? Yes. But angry? No. To be honest, my goal is to effectively pull myself from his life so that he can go on living without having to worry about me. As much as it hurts, I'm not a part of his life anymore. He moved on, just as I'm sure he would've wanted me to do had things been the other way around. I'm sure he's very happy with whatever her name is, Kate, I think it was. She probably despises hockey...and watches Dr. Phil on a daily basis.

Me? Bitter? Nah.

I'm so far from the point of acceptance that it makes me want to repeatedly bang my head against a brick wall. Getting over the initial phase of denial was hard enough, but accepting the facts? That was borderline impossible. Michael Vaughn was my guardian angel some time ago and he showed me heaven. Through all the hells and monsters we faced together, seeing that adorable shy smile cross his face was enough to light up a room and my entire world. He was the first person who really got to know me and every facet of my life. To my surprise, despite it all, he didn't run. 

When I came back, I expected for us to pick up where we left off. But then, newsflash, Bristow! You've been gone for two years. And your boyfriend's married. To a woman that you're going to hate regardless of how perfect she is and how good she is for him.

I had never felt so alone in my entire life. Two years is a long time. However, I can't help but listen to that small part of me that asks why he didn't keep looking...why he gave up so easily. Why he moved on so fast. Of course it wasn't fair for me to expect him to put his entire life on hold to look for me, drinking himself into a stupor at all nights of the week as Weiss had told me that he had done. I didn't want him to live like that. But of all people that I expected to hold out hope, it was him...

Before I know it, I arrive at the parking garage and pull into a space. I look at myself on the rearview mirror and I see someone who's life has changed so drastically in such a short amount of time. I see a person who's put on such an intricate façade, afraid to let people see exactly just how heartbroken and how detached I am from myself. There needs to be one thing on my mind right now and that is to begin finding out what the hell happened to me these past two years. It's time to put my compartmentalizing skills, though rusty, to good use. 

I wait for the elevator to give its usual ding and open up. Once it does, I'm not prepared to see what's inside. There he is, his head leaning back against the far wall, looking as miserable as I feel. God, that suit must be new because never have I seen him look _that...incredible. His eyes meet mine and he immediately straightens his posture. His mouth is open. I'm assuming that means he's trying to say something..._

"Hi," I croak out.

The doors begin to close and his hand flies up to push the door open. "Hi," he says in return.

I cautiously step inside and keep myself to the corner farthest away from him. I press the floor button as the doors close. I'm suddenly feeling strangely claustrophobic.

"Um...how are you?" he asks.

"I've been doing okay," I say, giving him a small smile. "Everyone's been really great."

He nods and gazes at the floor but not before I catch the look of disappointment crossing his face. I know he feels like I've purposefully kept him out of my life and that's probably because I've tried my hardest to do so. "Good, I'm glad to hear that."

"How have you been doing?" I ask.

"I've been alright," he replies nervously.

God, things shouldn't be like this. It shouldn't _be this difficult to carry on a conversation with him and it shouldn't cause this much pain, but it does. I don't want to look into his emerald-green eyes because I know that the instant I do, I'm going to lose myself in them all over again. And I can't put myself through the pain of pining for a married man...I just can't._

The elevator doors open and we share a guilt-stricken look before we both walk out.

"Bye," I say quickly, beginning my walk in the other direction. I see him unmoving and looking at me from the corner of my eye.

"Sydney?"

I close my eyes, let out a sigh, and slowly turn around. 

"It was good seeing you, Syd."

I need to say something but my voice seems to have gotten lost on its way out of my voice box. I hate it when he does that puppy-dog look with that soft voice thing! And the worse part is, he doesn't even know he's doing it! 

All I can do is give him a small smile, although filled with sadness, and walk away.

* * * * * * * *

"Vaughn."

I have a faint intuition that someone is calling my name, but I'm too busy pretending to work.

"Mike, Sydney's here."

My eyes fly up to land on Weiss's grinning face. Dammit. It's not my fault that her name is a freakin' reflex. "That's not funny."

"No, that _is_ funny," he chuckles. He pulls up a chair and sits in front of my desk.

"Can I help you with something?" Don't get annoyed. Don't get annoyed. Eric Weiss preys on the annoyed.

"You sound a little annoyed."

"Annoyed? Me? Not one bit," I lie, forging a smile. "So what do you want?"

"Well, being the sensitive and observant best friend that I am, I have a sneaking suspicion that something's wrong—"

"Weiss, don't even st—"

"And that 'something' goes by the name of our favorite kick-ass superspy, Sydney Bristow. Am I right?"

I roll my eyes and fight the urge to crawl into a hole. "Do we have to talk about this now? And last time I checked, this is really none of your business..."

"So I _am_ right. Vaughn, I hate to say this to you, man, but even the interns can figure you out."

Oh god. It's that bad?

"Have you talked to her yet?"

"Yeah...well...no, we had a conversation, yes."

"And?"

"I mumbled like an idiot, said probably one sentence that remotely made sense, and the only thing that was established, surprise surprise, was that she was _fine." Is my frustration really that obvious?_

Weiss nodded. "You went down in flames."

"Yep."

"Huge, blazing hot flames."

"Thanks for the visual. You really hit the nail on the head."

"I have a tendency of doing that."

"A skill."

"An art form, really."

"Weiss."

"Sorry."

I stare blankly at my computer screen which has been flashing that same annoying cursor in Microsoft Word for what seems like hours. The hope that this report would start typing itself is slowly fading away.

"If it's any consolation to you, she still thinks about you constantly."

"How would you know that?"

"I'm not at liberty to say."

Suddenly, my curiosity is piqued. "You talked to her about me, didn't you?"

"In the past month, she's asked me occasionally about how you were doing..."

"What else?"

"That's it! She just wanted to make sure you were okay."

I lean back in my chair and close my eyes. Go figure that despite the torture that this woman has gone through, she would still care about how _I_ was doing when I feel like I'm her biggest betrayer. "Has she said anything about how she feels for me?"

"After the preliminary desire to punch your face in? Nah, not really."  
  


"Weiss, c'mon, man!"

"I feel like I'm the seventh grade." He lets out a laugh and finally settles down. "I don't know...she's really obscure when it comes to you."

"So you don't know anything?"

"Not really. But if you want me to pass her a note before French class, I'd be happy to," he grins.

Paper ball. Weiss's face. 

"Ow! My god, you get defensive."

"I do it out of love."

Weiss looks over to the other side of the room and spots Kendall. I knew that man was good for something. "The Big Kahuna's here, I should get back to work."

"Good idea," I exclaim with as much energy as I can muster.

"Before I go, how's Kate doing?"

"She's moving out in a few days."

He nods as a solemn look crosses his features. "I'm really sorry, Vaughn."

I sigh. "Thanks...me too."

* * * * * * *

"Come in, Ms. Bristow."

Ah, Kendall. Still gruff. Still bald. 

"What can I do for you?" he says, not even throwing a glance in my direction. 

"As you probably heard, I passed my field exam which means I'm field-active again."

"That's correct, Ms. Bristow."

I walk closer to his desk, trying to convince myself that I'm not talking to a wall. "I was wondering if there was any way that you could place either Agent Weiss or Agent Dixon as my partner during my missions."

Well, _that_ grabbed his attention. "You mean instead of Agent Vaughn?"

"Um...yes, sir. For obvious reasons."

"I see," he nods.

His forehead wrinkles have made an appearance. I suppose he wants to make an inquiry on my personal life, too. 

"I think we can work something out. However, it will depend entirely on a mission's circumstances. If I need both of you on a case, I can't have either of you letting your personal grievances hinder the completion of a task. Is that clear, Ms. Bristow?"

"Crystal." Well, it wasn't a definite 'yes' but it will have to do for now. Just suck it up, Bristow. My hand is on the doorknob when his voice stops me.

"You two used to work well together."

Suddenly, a conversation I had with Vaughn in this very same building comes flooding back to me and it almost makes me want to cry. It was the first time he said that all he wanted to do was kiss me...and I felt like my knees had turned to Jell-O while my insides were busy turning into mush. I push the tears aside, unwilling to break down in front of Kendall. It was true; Vaughn and I were like clockwork. Almost always on the same page.

"We were great together."

His own words from years ago echo in my head. Those days have become nothing but a memory.

* * * * * * *

End Part 2.


	3. Bleed For Me Part 3

**A/N:** Thanks for those of you who left me reviews! It feeds my muse ;) I hope you guys like this next chapter so let me know what you think. Thanks again!

**Bleed For Me – Part 3  
**By Abby O. (abbyo3@hotmail.com)

* * * * * * *

_ "I'm moving on and last I can see_

_Life has been patiently waiting for me_

_And I know there's no guarantees, but I'm not alone_

_There comes a time in everyone's life_

_When all you can see are the years passing by_

_And I have made up my mind, that those days are gone"_

--"I'm Moving On" by Rascal Flats

I carry the last box of belongings to the Subaru and wonder where the hell I was going to fit it. I didn't realize she had so much stuff until I had to make a second run to the U-HAUL store to get more boxes. Kate was moving out today, leaving my life for good, and I'm not sure how I should feel. I certainly hadn't plan for things to turn out like this or for her to get hurt, but I couldn't stand to live a lie. Staying married to a woman while I was in love with another is emotional sacrilege. I did love Kate. She was free-spirited, beautiful, and she loved life...she deserved more than I could ever give her. She deserved to have all of a man's heart, not just half.

The thunder from the oncoming storm couldn't have done any better in setting the atmosphere for this already dreary day. The rain hasn't begun yet, but the clouds have spent the last half hour turning angry shades of grey. I find a spot in the backseat and push the box inside, shutting the door afterwards. 

Kate starts to walk down from the porch with presumably her last box and she wordlessly sticks it in the front seat. The door closes with a slam and I come face to face with the woman who's heart I have just broken into a million pieces. 

"I guess this is it," I say, not knowing what else to say.

"Yeah," she replies, pulling her cardigan tighter around her.

"Kate, I know you think I'm the biggest jerk in the world, and with good reason, but—"

She smiles and shakes her head. "I don't think you're a jerk, Michael."

Can you say that again? Because I really don't think I heard right. "What?"

"I mean, sure, there was a point in time where I considered buying a voodoo doll, but other than that, I think I understand."

I laugh a little at her voodoo doll comment. I hope she didn't actually get one. "I'm so sorry," I whisper. She sniffles and I see the tears begin to well up. God, please don't cry... 

"I've wanted nothing from you since the beginning of this relationship except to follow your heart. I'm..." Deep breath. "...really glad that it seems to have found the right direction."

I pull her into a tight embrace. "Thank you...for everything." For understanding. For unknowingly helping me along the grieving process when Sydney was gone. For everything. We pull away and she fights to keep the corners of her lips upturned. 

She reaches out and ruffles my hair. She told me once that she loved doing that. "This better be one hell of a woman, Michael," she comments, laughing through her tears.

"She is, Kate. She is," I assure her softly. I didn't expect this to be so difficult. Maybe if she was less understanding, this would be easier, but that's Kate Fischer for you. She would make another guy very happy one day. Regret fills my head once again and I wish that I didn't have to put her through this. 

"I should go..."

"Okay. I guess this is goodbye."

"Bye," she murmurs, kissing me on the cheek. And with that, she gave me one last glance, got into her car, and drove off.

I stand there for what seems like hours, not particularly sure on what to do next. I had no doubts that I had done the right thing. Not one. It just...felt _too_ right. I look at my wedding band and calmly slip it off of my finger. I open my palm and I find myself staring endlessly at it; as if it symbolized the beginning and the end of a chapter of my life. My hands find my pockets once again and I look up at the stormy skies.

Then the rain began to fall.

* * * * * *

"WILL!"

"Hey, you!"

It takes me a split-second to realize that he's scooping me in his arms and lifting my feet off the ground.

"Oh my God, I can't believe it's really you!"

"In the flesh," I grin, kissing his cheek before he sets me back down. I pull him inside and throw his luggage on the floor. "Wow...look at you. You look great!"

"So do you, Syd," he breathes, still holding my hand. It feels so good to see him alive and in one piece. I still have nightmares that involve seeing his bloodied body laying in my bathtub...it reminded me of Danny every single time and the image still terrifies the hell out of me. 

We sit on my dad's black leather couch, the fire already going in the fireplace. "Do you want anything to drink?"

"No, I'm okay...the stewardess in the plane treated me well," he grins.

I can't help but laugh. "So, Mr. New Yawk, how's life treating you over there?"

"It's going really good. I asked to be reassigned after..." His face automatically falls. "After you went missing. I needed a change of scenery, and I've always loved New York as a kid."

"That's great, Will. I'm really happy for you. I'll have to visit one day and we can have coffee and read the paper together at a downtown Starbucks," I tease.

"I'm gonna hold you to that, Syd," he chuckles. 

The both of us fall silent and his bewildered eyes are trained on my face. "What?" 

"I can't believe you're...alive...I'm sorry it took me so long to get here. The Agency—"

I put a comforting hand on his shoulder just feeling thankful that he's even here. "It's okay," I smile.

"How are you dealing with everything?" he asks hesitantly. Uh-oh. It's the stepping-on-egg-shells routine. My father, along with everyone else in the free world, has taught me to hate that. Nevertheless, I know that they only do it because they care about me...and lately, it has died out just a tad. 

"I'm hanging in there, you know? Just taking things day to day. Trying to look forward and not look back." I don't want to tell him that the frustration of not knowing what happened to me is driving me insane. Or how I get angry every time I realize that not one person can offer me answers about anything. And most of all, how it hurts to breathe because the man I love isn't here to hold me and tell me that everything will be okay...

"I'm assuming you know about...about Francie."

Francie...it may appear that I've had a long time to deal with her death, but I don't think it has fully sunk in. I often find myself sitting up late at night in my dad's living room, listening to the Beach Boys because she loved the Beach Boys. She was a woman who radiated beauty in every sense of the word, and I am determined to personally deal with the people responsible for her death. "Yes," I finally answer. "I read the report, and I got your message...that night."

Will nods and he is careful not to meet my eyes. "The service was very beautiful. I wish you could've been there."

"Me too," I say sadly. "I half expect her to call my cell phone and ask me to pick up some parsley or something from the store," I laugh ruefully. 

"I know."

I blink back the tears threatening their descent on my already assaulted cheeks. "I miss her, Will..."

He takes me in his arms and for the first time in a long time, I feel safe. Even if it's just for a few moments. "I miss her, too."

I cry into his sweater and I'm reminded of the pain I've endured. There are days where I feel like my life ended when I fell unconscious in my apartment that night. I lost my best friend. My other one was nearly killed. And I never made it to Santa Barbara. Instead, I came home to an unfamiliar world that did a complete 180 on me.

"I want my old life back," I sob.

"I know, Syd...you're gonna get through this."

"What makes you so confident?"

"Because you're the strongest person I've ever met and probably ever will meet. And you have a family, blood or not, who loves you very much." He kisses the top of my head and continued to rub my back.

"Thanks, Will," I say softly, shutting my eyes. "I'm glad you're here."

"Me too, sweetie."

* * * * * * *

The next day, after grabbing breakfast, Will and I head over to the storage facility that I still haven't finished cleaning out. My dad and Weiss had offered to remove all my belongings from there and keep it at my dad's place until I could get an apartment of my own. But I wanted to do it myself. We arrive at the location and open the garage-like storage door. The pungent smell of dust and time fill my senses as it did the first time I came here. 

"This shouldn't take too long," I tell Will. "There isn't much left, as you can see."

"Take all the time you need."

I start taking a few boxes of clothes and shoes to the car, loading them in the trunk. The CD's and my CD player come next followed by kitchen utensils. Will and I spend a good hour packing things into the car and I almost turn to leave until Will brings something to my attention.

"Wait, Syd. There's one more box."

I sit on the cold cement floor and pull up the package, breaking the masking tape open with my nail. I pull the flaps open and am greeted with a picture of a happy couple staring adoringly at each other like fools love.

Vaughn and I.

A part of me wants to just throw it back in the box and never look at it again, but I can't tear my eyes from it. I remember when this picture was taken...at a picnic with Weiss and a few of his family members. He had asked us to tag along because it would be a beautiful day and "no one can resist Eric Weiss's Super Savory Shish Kabobs" (which turned out neither super or savory). Vaughn and I had spent the day together, inseparable. We were trying to sneak away, behind some trees, no less, to avoid kissing in front of Weiss's very animated nephews. When he finally leaned in, we heard the snap of a camera, followed by incessant giggles, and topped off with Weiss screaming after his nephew to give him his camera back. 

"What is it, Syd?" Will asks, noticing that I had spaced out.

"Nothing...it's just an old picture frame," I answer, my voice cracking.

Will walks over to me and sits down, his eyes landing on the frame. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I manage to croak out. I continue flipping through the rest of the box's contents and I fight not to lose it when I pull out the next item. "'Z is for Zamboni: A Hockey Alphabet' by Melanie Rose," I read. I run my hands through the cover of the children's book, remembering how amused Vaughn was that I had developed a fascination for zambonis. "He gave me the book one night before we had gone to bed, saying that he just magically found himself in the children's section of a book store one day and this was sitting on the shelf, calling his name."

"Oh, Syd..." 

I feel Will rubbing my back as I open the cover and read the inscription that I've read a thousand other times. 

_S is for how stunningly beautiful you are_

_Y is for the cute way you yawn in the morning_

_D is for the way you dance with me_

_N is for every night we spend together_

_E is for everyone who wishes they had what we have_

_Y is for being you_

_Every moment I spend with you is the best part._

_-V_

I close my eyes and I can almost see him again, smiling boyishly at me. If I think back even harder, I can almost feel how his skin feels on mine...

"You mean the world to him, Sydney," Will says. "Anyone can see that."

"It was a long time ago. A lot of things have changed."

"And you think his feelings for you have?"

"He's married, Will! What is that _supposed to tell me?!"_

"You haven't talked to him about all this, have you?"

I turn away and focus my attention on a random dark corner. "I just...can't."

Will nods and he takes the book from me, reading over the inscription once more. After a few lingering moments of silence, he begins to speak. "Do you know what happened to him when you were gone?"

I shake my head as the tears began to subside. Weiss and my father told me only bits and pieces of Vaughn's reaction...that he had begun drinking excessively and alienating himself from everyone and everything around him. 

"When he got to your apartment that night, he searched everywhere for you. He was hysterical, Syd, looking in every corner of your house and scouring your neighborhood. Your father tried to calm him down, told him to go home and he just lost it. He punched an investigator for trying to pull him from the scene...hours upon hours after he had arrived, he sat outside on your porch, staring at nothing. Nobody could do anything to ease his pain and in that instant, he just stopped caring about himself. Weiss finally got him to go home and the months after that weren't any better. He spent his days and his nights looking for you, following leads, looking for ways around the dead ends. He barely ate or slept and pretty soon, he was advised by the agency to go to the hospital and sought out treatment. Vaughn separated himself from everyone, including his friends and his family. He grieved a long time for you, Syd. His entire life had ceased to exist the moment you disappeared and even at our most discouraging moments searching for you, he was the one that held out hope. He was the one that vowed never to give up on looking for you."

"Then why did he?" I ask as I try to process all of this information in my head. 

"He didn't. He may have moved on with his life in the most technical terms of the word, but he never gave in to the idea of you being dead. He continued his search even after his marriage." 

"But...why would he make a life-long commitment to someone else if he kept looking for me?"

"Because if he didn't move on and if you didn't come back, he would've lived his life for nothing...he moved on because he knew that's what you would've done, too. And as much as it hurts, Syd, you know that he's right. You would've wanted him to continue living his life and not sit around wondering whether or not...there was even a reason to live anymore. His life had been torn apart completely and we all knew that it was best for him to try to rebuild." Will lets out a deep sigh, placing the book back into the box. "Don't place all the blame on him, Syd. The guy has gone through a lot, too. We all have."

The car ride home is spent in silence with my head leaning against the window, watching the people we pass and the children playing on the street. I know that Will was right. Everything he said was painfully true and as much as I didn't want to admit it to myself, I _did blame Vaughn. I held him responsible for everything going wrong after my return from the dead because I felt so betrayed that he could go and marry someone else. I shut my eyes, basking in the silence. I feel like I can't even look at him. I know that whenever I do, the image of a faceless woman will hover right beside his._

* * * * * * *

End Part 3


	4. Bleed For Me Part 4

*muah* Thanks for sticking with this 'fic, guys. Your thoughts really mean so much to me! :) Keep 'em coming! I hope you like this next part. It's a bit shorter than the rest, but I'll make up for that in the last part. Enjoy!

**Bleed For Me – Part 4 of 5**

By Abby O. (abbyo3@hotmail.com)

I hate traffic jams. I hate them with a smoldering passion. The guy next to me is sitting in his silver BMW convertible blasting some rap song by that half dollar guy. The song seems to be called "Patiently Waiting," which is ironic considering how fucking impatient I'm getting. Not to mention that it's a _Saturday_, a day that I'm supposed to not be working. That doesn't mean that I would've been doing anything productive in my spare time, but it's the principle of the thing. Kendall called me in for some emergency and because of his impeccable timing, I missed the last half of Sports Center. 

That's exactly what my life has come to. Sports Center. Chinese take-out. Donovan.

Since Sydney's return to work, we've shared a few words with one another. Very few. There's always that heavy uncomfortable cloud hanging over us whenever we're even in the same room, which has been an infrequent occurrence. A few times, I've tried to talk to her about...well, everything...but when I finally work up the courage to, she says she has to go or something else comes up. Weiss advised me to just go over to her place and see her, make it so that she has no way out, but I can't do that. I don't want to pressure her into talking about something that she very well may not be ready to talk about.

A loud honk abuses my ears and I look at my rearview mirror to find a teenager with his head out the window saying all sorts of kind words. "No, you did NOT just honk at me," I mutter to myself, trying to keep from flicking him off. Does it _look_ like the traffic is moving, kid? Do you actually THINK that your persistent and ridiculous honking is going to make everyone _zoom through the line of cars that are all __not moving?!_

Breathe, Mike. Inhale. Exhale.

So, I'm a in a little bit of a bad mood. It's warranted, right? Things aren't exactly too peachy in my life and now I'm being called in on a Saturday. 

I finally arrive at the building and hurriedly make my way up to my floor. When I push the doors open, I find a good amount of people walking around rapidly with serious looks on their faces. And why are they looking at me like that? I walk through the bullpen and am immediately met by Weiss, who has definitely seen better days judging by his expression.

"Vaughn—"

"What's going on?" I don't like that look. I know that look. It's the I've-got-bad-news-the-size-of-J Lo's-Ass look.

"It's Sydney."

My insides drop immediately and I have a sinking feeling that I'm not going to like what I'm about to hear. "What about her? Is she okay?" I knew the basic information about the mission she undertook in Sweden; how she had to find and interrogate an international crime lord who might have an idea on Arvin Sloane's current whereabouts.  

"Vaughn, she's gone missing," Weiss informs me.

I feel like I can't breathe. She's *missing*?! This can't be happening. Not now. Please god, not again. I spot Kendall walking briskly towards us and I meet him halfway. "What the hell happened?!"

"We lost contact with Agent Bristow a couple hours ago. She said she was in a forest near the outskirts of Ostersund. She was held captive at a cabin, presumably being run by a group of Henrik's men, and she managed to escape—"

"Is she hurt?" I ask, hearing my own voice begin to falter.

"We don't know. Our conversation was cut off abruptly."

"I'm going to Sweden."

"Agent Vaughn, I know—" Kendall begins.

"No! I am _not_ losing her again!" I shout as the entire room falls silent. My breathing has become considerably heavier than when I walked in here and I couldn't give a damn about the numerous pairs of pitying eyes that are staring at me. "I'm going to Sweden, with or without your consent or your help," I say through gritted teeth.

"You're doing it without either. Devlin has been breathing down my neck about sending teams blindly into dangerous zones and until Sydney contacts us with some sort of a location, I can't risk—"

"She gave you a location!" I counter.

"That spans miles upon miles! Not to mention that Henrik's men have been known to be ruthless and they're located mostly in central Sweden...if Henrik was to get word of how valuable Sydney is to us, if he hasn't figured it out already, he's no doubt going to intensify his search!"

"Meanwhile, our _own_ search is non-existant," I spit back angrily.

"We have a lot of guys working on re-establishing contact with her, Vaughn. We'll make a move when we have information that's more concrete. "

There is _no_ way in hell that I'm going to sit around here and listen to static on a headset. I walk out of the bullpen and out to my car, making sure that my bag of gear was still in my trunk. I pull my cell phone out of my pocket as I begin my drive to the airport.

"Weiss," he answers.

"Weiss, it's me. I'm going to contact you when I find her so we can set up an extraction."

"Are you sure it's so safe to be doing this by yourself, Vaughn? You're gonna get yourself killed!"

"Please spare me the lecture right now. I need to find her and you of all people should understand that."

"I know," he says solemnly.

"Why the hell wasn't I assigned to help in this case in the first place?!"

No answer.

"Weiss?"

"She requested that you be as least involved in her missions as possible."

"She _what?" I don't want to think that I've become that unbearable. Especially when I haven't even had one decent conversation with her! "When?!"_

"A couple of weeks ago. Vaughn, cut her some slack, man..."

I cut him off before he can continue. "Just wait for my call, okay?"

"You better pack some winter gear or something. It's gotta be thirty degrees up there."

"Thanks _mom_, but you'd be surprised of what's already in my trunk."

"Knowing you? A Wal-Mart, an arsenal, and a Best Buy combined."

* * * * * * *

It's cold. Too cold. I lost contact with the CIA only a few minutes ago when one of Henrik's men kicked the communication device out of my hands. After quietly shooting him with my silencer, I continued my trek into the dark forest, my only guide being my senses and the moonlight. There are cuts on my face and my hands along with some fresh bruises from my escape. I think I've lost most of them...and only now am I feeling the pain and overwhelming fatigue. Pain is shooting up my right leg whenever I take a step through the inches of snow that are already frozen on the ground.

After what seems like hours of walking, I finally decide that I need to stop. If I don't make a fire soon, I'm going to freeze to death and I absolutely refuse to die here. I find a tiny clearing amidst all the bare trees, deciding that it was a semi-safe place. And if it wasn't, I'll deal with it when I need to. I begin rubbing two sticks together and pretty soon, I have a small fire going. 

I look at my surroundings and hear the coalesced sounds of nature and loneliness. I pull my knees to my chest and try to gather as much warmth from the fire as I can. What I would give for a boyscout right now...

_Boyscout__.___

Okay, for one particular boyscout.

If I wasn't so cold, I'd probably start crying. I miss him...so much. More than I've missed anyone in my entire life. I've been walking around these past few weeks like my other half, my partner in crime was missing. 

Hopelessness is becoming an unsolicited habit.

I'm not surprised that now, in the face of death, he still manages to invade my thoughts. A part of me is insisting that he will find me, but there are countless odds stacked against the notion. It wouldn't be the first time, but things are different now. Before I can dismiss the idea, exhaustion takes over me and my eyes fall shut.

* * * * * * * *

I've been hiking through these woods, my eyes half glued to the blue screen of my handheld GPS navigator. For hours, I've kept walking, looking for any sign at all of her. I wasn't going to stop until she was beside me. Screw the fact that we haven't talked. Screw the fact that our relationship is in shambles right now. All of that almost seems so trivial compared to finding her alive and alright. Knowing Sydney, she's probably killed about ten guys right now who have threatened to get in her way. But she isn't invincible. She gets hurt. She can be vulnerable. She bleeds just like anybody else. I often catch myself wanting to think that she's indestructible, but the notion quickly falls back into the naïve-thinking category.

I'm not angry that she's requested that I be removed from her missions. In fact, I understand why she would've done it. There's no way that I can even begin to imagine the kind of hell she's going through, but it doesn't stop her actions from feeling like a stab in the gut. At one time, long ago, she used to be able to call me in the middle of the night when she felt like crap and I would've bolted so fast out of my door that I would've forgotten to put my shoes on. Then when we were together, I could just...hold her. We'd lie down in bed, I'd take her into my arms, she would shut her eyes, I'd kiss her temple and assure her that everything would be okay. And it felt _good_. It felt so good to know that she could count on me and that she _expected to count on me._

Now, it seems as if she goes out of her way to make it clear that she no longer needs me and the possibility of that being true is as excruciating as losing her.

I look around me and can see nothing but the silhouettes of trees cloaked in the darkness. The moon softly bathes my surroundings with light and for that, I'm thankful for. 

I pray that whatever condition she's in, that she's hanging on. We have too much unfinished business and even more unspoken words that need to finally be said. You can't leave me now, Sydney.

Not now.

* * * * * * * *

End Part 4


	5. Bleed For Me Part 5

Woohoo! Last part J Thanks to everyone who read and responded! You all make me wanna write more. *g* Enjoy!

**Bleed For Me – Part 5/5**

Written by Abby O. (abbyo3@hotmail.com)

_"__All I ever wanted  
Was to be what you needed  
'Cause something so strong  
It could never be wrong.  
And all I can promise  
Is to say what I'm feeling  
We've made it so long"_

                        --"Bleed For Me," by Saliva

Am I seeing things? I squint and stop dead in my tracks. There's a small fire burning about a hundred yards away and I can only hope that it's Sydney. I place my hand on the gun in my holster as I make my way to the tiny blaze of hope in the distance. My heart starts to beat faster and I suddenly develop what I hope is an irrational fear of what I might find. As I walk closer to the clearing and immediately see a body in a fetal position on the ground next to the fading fire. 

Sydney!

My legs begin to run over to her and I kneel on the ground, instantly noticing the medium-sized cut on her face. 

"Sydney!" I call out, gently rolling her onto her back. "Can you hear me?"

She lets out a groan and I let out a breath I didn't even know I was holding. Her eyes flutter open and those beautiful chocolate brown spheres that I've missed out on are looking up at me. "Vaughn," she says my name in a raspy voice and in that instant, I feel like everything bad in my life has just faded away.

"I'm here," I smile, pulling out the first aid kit from my pack. "Just relax, okay? I'm gonna take care of you." 

"How did you...how did you find me?"

I let her drink from my canteen as I wash off the cut on her cheek and bandage it. "I just knew," I answered. "Does anything else hurt?"

She props herself up on her elbows, wincing in pain, and I help her to a sitting position. "I have a few bruises pretty much all over, but you know, nothing I've never had before."

Unfortunately, she was right. 

"Listen, I'm gonna call Weiss and set up an extraction, okay? Just stay here."

She gives me that where-the-hell-would-I-go look.

"Right." I stand up and walk a few feet away from the fire, afraid to take my eyes off of her. I may my call to Weiss on the GPS phone and he relays the message to Kendall. I tuck the phone back into my backpack. "There's another clearing a couple miles ahead. They're sending an extraction team to meet us there in about three hours so we have an hour here to rest," I informed her as I threw more twigs into the fire. I take a seat on the ground next to her as she hugs her knees, her gaze focused on the glowing embers. Neither one of us speak for I don't know how long and the tension is threatening to suffocate and kill me.

"Why did you come for me?" she questions, her tone sounding smaller than I've ever heard it.

I look at her incredulously. "Why do you think I came?" I ask softly.

No answer. 

"I came because I wasn't going to let you slip away from me again. I've done it once and I'm not going to make the same mistake twice. Especially not with you."

We continue to watch the fire in silence and an eternity seems to pass until I can muster up the courage to delve into the subject that we've been avoiding for so long. I'm tired of there being a huge pink elephant in the room whenever we're fifty feet away from each other. I'm tired of living my life without the one person that can truly fulfill it without so much as lifting a finger.

"We have a lot of things to talk about, Syd."

I hear a sharp intake of air and then, "I didn't think we had anything to say to each other."

"Then you thought wrong."

Her gaze burns into mine with a mixture of challenging and vulnerability. "What is it that needs to be said between us, Vaughn? I went missing for two years and I can't tell you where I've been or what I've done or who I even am anymore. I come back here, to my 'home,' and discover that you've pretty much moved on with your life and have found bigger and better things. Like a wife. So pardon me for not being so damn understanding," she hissed.

I pull my eyes away from her and turn my attention back to the fire. No, I deserve that. From my peripheral vision, I see her burying her head in her hands and rubbing her forehead.

"I'm sorry. I—I just, I expected this to be hard but not entirely impossible."

"What?"

"This conversation that I thought we would never have to have."

"Why would you think we would never talk about this?" 

"Because the more we talk about this, the more complicated things get. And...you don't owe me anything, Vaughn. I'm not gonna be responsible for getting in between your marriage. You deserve to be happy," she sighs.

"And so do you, Sydney," I add quietly.

"I'll be fine," she assures me, fighting to keep her tone as convincing as possible but I see right through her.

"You don't _have_ to be fine all the time because you know what? I'm _not fine, Syd. I'm not fine! I'm miserable!"_

"I'm sorry my return has put such a damper on your life," she mutters.

"That's not how it is and you know it," I say quietly, keeping my frustration in check. "Look at me, Sydney." When she doesn't comply, I reach out and tug on her cheek, tilting her face towards mine much like I did our last night together. Tears are pooling in her eyes but she struggles to keep them from falling. "When I lost you that night, I lost so much more than just _you_. I lost myself, my direction…everything," I tell her quietly. "I spent everyday looking for you, persuing leads that took me nowhere. And when I wasn't looking for you, I went to the observatory or the train station or the pier...hoping against hope that maybe, just maybe you'd be waiting there for me. On that one night, my life had changed so drastically and for the first time, I couldn't be strong anymore. I didn't have the answers and it drove me insane. Everything had changed so fast."

She begins to turn away, the hot tears seering down her cheeks.

"But Sydney," I reach out once again, gently willing her to look at me. "The one thing...the one thing that didn't change and will never change is how I feel about you. No matter what happened or will happen, I'm _never_ going to stop being in love with you because as hard as I tried to move on, there wasn't I day when I didn't think about kissing you or holding you or watching another hockey game with you...And if I have one regret in my life, it was that I failed to tell you sooner that I _love_ you, Syd. I always have and I always will…and you can try to move heaven and earth to stop me from doing so, but I'm gonna have to warn you that no matter how hard you try, it's a losing battle."

She's crying freely now and I take her into my arms as I had done so many times before. I kiss the top of her head as she tightens her arms around me. I take a deep breath and close my eyes, relishing in the feel of her body wrapped against mine.

"I'm so sorry, Syd," I whisper. "I'm so sorry for everything..."

"Don't apologize," she sighs into my jacket.

We hold each other for a while and after her crying settles, she pulls tentatively away from me, unsure of what to do or say next.

"So what happens now?" she asks.

"I think we start over," I reply, offering a hesitant smile.

"But you're...what about Kate?" 

I look down at my left hand and slowly pull off my glove, showing her my bare ring finger. I think it's safe to say that she's more than a little surprised.

"Vaughn..." she begins, her eyes wide and her voice shaky.

"I ended things with Kate a few weeks ago. It wasn't fair to her for me to drag it on any further."

"I'm really sorry..."

"Don't apologize," I smile, returning her own words.

I rub her back gently, trying to warm her as much as I can. A huge weight seems to have been lifted from my shoulders. I know that we still have a long way to go, but I'm willing to take it as slow as she needs to. After a few more minutes pass by, I pull away a little to look at her and realize that she's asleep. She's gotta be exhausted. I look at my watch and decide to let her sleep for another twenty minutes before we start our trip to the extraction point. I brush the hair away from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

  
I tell her it's going to be okay, even if she can't hear me, and I gently kiss her temple.

Two hours later, we reach the extraction point just in time as the helicopter lands. We are pulled up into the aircraft and are given warm blankets to wrap around our bodies. Sydney and I sit side by side as we lift off and I breathe a sigh of relief that we are finally safe. 

"Agents Bristow and Vaughn, we'll be taking you to Ersta Sjukhus Hospital in Stockholm so you guys just sit tight," one of the men yell to us and we both give a nod. 

I look out of the helicopter's window and watch the sunrise. My breath catches in my throat when Sydney takes my hand in hers. I look at her and am surprised to see the same softness and sparkle in her eyes that I used to see before.

I know that we both have a lot to work out, that this is far from over. Nevertheless, now I know that we can do it together. Nothing can keep two people apart when they're fated to be with each other. Not even an agonizing two years. She smiles at me with that endearing dimpled beam and I don't think the sunrise has ever looked more beautiful.

* * * * * * * *

Once again, I find myself sitting outside of a hospital room. Same person, different place, different reason. I seem to have developed a habit of twiddling my thumbs as I wait for the doctor to leave her room and tell me that I can go in. The past day has been such a whirlwind of events and it's just now that I feel the weariness setting in. 

"Agent Vaughn?"

I quickly stand up.

"Sydney is just fine," he smiles. "A few minor symptoms of hypothermia, a couple cuts and bruises...but she's alive and kicking."

"Thank you," I say, letting out a sigh of relief. "Can I see her?"

"Go right ahead."

This time around, I don't waste any time. I enter her room and find her laying down on the bed with the back of it tilted up so she can sit up just a little bit.

"Hey."

"Hey," she smiles. God, I love that smile. The woman makes me feel _giddy_, an uncommon emotion for a man to be having (or admitting). Giddy!

I walk towards the bed and sit on the edge of it, facing her. "How you feelin'?"

"A lot better..."

I can't help but think that her words had a double-meaning, but all I can focus on is her deep brown eyes staring at me. The last time I was in a hospital room with this woman, she couldn't stand to look at me. "When are they letting you come home?"

"The doctor said in a few hours."

"That's good," I beam, pulling the covers up to her abdomen.

She watches my gesture and lays a hand on mine, her expression turning serious. "Vaughn?" 

"Hmm?"

"Everything you said back in the woods -- about how you felt. I just wanted to say that...I feel exactly the same. I wanted you to know that."

"I think I knew," I reply, trying to hide my relief and not bothering to conceal my happiness.

"And Vaughn?" 

"Yeah?" 

She tugs on the lapel of my jacket and pulls my face inches away from hers. "I missed you," she whispers against my lips.

I close the distance between us as our lips meet in a gentle kiss. It's been far too long that I've felt her lips on mine and the feeling is indescribable. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, those _are_ fireworks you hear in the background. Or maybe that's just in my head. She reluctantly pulls away and smiles at me.

"I missed you, too."

* * * * * * *

_"There were days, lonely days_

_When the world wouldn't throw me a crumb_

_But I kept on believing_

_That this day would come_

_And this love_

_Is like nothing I have ever known_

_Take my hand, love_

_I'm taking you home"_

-"Taking You Home," by Don Henley

It's been a month since our Sweden ordeal and my life has gotten considerably better since then. My relationship with Vaughn, though still fragile, is gradually rebuilding as we try to rediscover one another again. We both agreed to take things slow because we still have many issues to resolve. I don't remember feeling this alive and complete in so long that I almost forgot how fulfilling it felt. I think we both learned not to take anything for granted and now, neither of us are afraid to tell each other how we feel. 

After today's debrief is over, which Vaughn was exempt from for some reason or another, I walk across the CIA bullpen to my desk. Before I take a seat, a colored brochure taped to my computer screen catches my eye.

'Bacara Resort of Santa Barbara.'

Needless to say, I'm shocked when I open the brochure and pictures of a strikingly gorgeous hotel slash spa are splashed across the brochure's panels. The suites...the pool...oh my God. My eyes are agape and my mouth hangs wide open as I read the descriptions of what could very well be paradise. Suddenly, I sense that someone is watching me and I look around the room, the brochure still in my hand. 

Then I see him.

He's standing at the entrance of the office doors, leaning up against the wall. Dressed in a blue Hawaiian shirt, khaki shorts, flip flops, and sunglasses sitting on his head, never has he looked more gorgeous...and more ridiculous considering that we're at work. He grins goofily at me while jiggling the ring of his car keys on his finger. This man is absolutely incorrigible and I love him for it. I can't help but begin to laugh as I shake my head in disbelief.

"Go ahead, Bristow. See you in a week," I hear Kendall say behind me, almost making me jump.

"Thank you, sir," I say happily as he walks away. My eyes meet Vaughn's once again and I walk towards him, trying to hide my smile.

"You ready?" he asks, still grinning.

"I can't believe we're doing this."

"We have some unfinished business to attend to and we really should hurry, Syd. The longer I stand here, the more strange stares I'm getting from the staff," he jokes.

"I still have to pack," I laugh.

"Already taken care of."

"You're serious?"

"Absolutely."

I place my arms around his neck, disregarding the fact that we still _are_ at work. Who cares? "You're amazing, Michael Vaughn."

He leans down to whisper in my ear. 

"Not nearly as amazing as you." He places a soft kiss on my neck and—

"HEY, you two! Have fun at Santa Barbara!" Weiss shouts, clapping Vaughn hard on the back. We both jump and pull away reluctantly, sharing a hilarious look.

Some things never change.

* * * * * *

The End.


End file.
